"Leave the Ensign in charge and have Sanderson report to the bridge at once." Harrigan stooped through the hatch. "And Mike, see that the word is passed along to the remaining gun-crews. Damned if I'll see a repeat of this!"
"Yes, sir," Mike answered, and turned toward the nervous lieutenant. "Report to the bridge, Mister, and prepare to be chewed."
Sanderson managed a weak "Yes, sir."
Harrigan was pacing the bridge when McDaniels and Rose came in, stood at attention and saluted crisply.
The admiral returned the salute. "Relax, gentlemen. I called you here to commend you both personally for your fast, clear thinking under the stress of emergency. Cool-headedness under strain is taken as a matter of course in the Space Forces, but in this case your actions served as an example to an inexperienced crew and are therefore doubly appreciated by the officers of this ship. Sit down."
The two men took seats and Harrigan relaxed behind his own massive desk. "I was with your father at Cadet school, McDaniels, and later at the Battle of Canopus. Where is the Commander now?"
McDaniels, short and pudgy, answered proudly. "He took command of Polaris Base I just before we left on the cruise, sir."
"Oh?"
The kid doesn't know yet, Harrigan thought. If the Force can't stem the League attack damned quick, old McDaniels and his men will be the expendables in this scrap. But the kid sitting before him was so eager and obviously proud of his father that the admiral hadn't the heart to tell him the true score.